Goulash, with a Side of Confessions
by PhantomPanther
Summary: Graduating with honours is finally in Helga's sights. Finally she can prove to her parents that she's as good, if not better than Olga ever was. But when she heads home for Christmas after four gruelling years of college, a chance encounter finds her faced with a decision that could crumble those aspirations, for something she has longed for more than anything.
1. Chapter 1

Phantom: So, I've recently gotten back into Hey Arnold!, and since my obsession is currently in its prime, I decided to write a story. I hope you enjoy it.

**Goulash, with a Side of Confessions**

"Criminy, what a _day_! You'd think this darn weather would let up just a _bit_," Helga griped, balancing a stack of books against her chest with one arm whilst holding an umbrella with the other.

"I must say, it's unusual to be having so much rain at this time of the year; normally by now we would be getting snow!" Phoebe replied cheerfully, trotting alongside.

"Well, at least I won't be freezing my tits off at the folks' place, unlike that dump of a dorm room we live in." Helga muttered. "Seriously, when are they going to install some damned heating? We've only been there _four years_." her tone dripped sarcasm.

"You must be looking forward to more than just being warm, Helga. It's Christmas! And you haven't seen your family since last winter."

Helga glared at her best friend. "What have I got to look forward to, Pheebs? Miriam will burn the stuffing and the goulash – like she _always_ does – Big Bob will sit in the recliner watching sport reruns all day, and Olga will be taking over in the kitchen like some sort of control-freak Stepford Wife while her mopey, unemployed husband sits there holding the baby that constantly cries and screams! I tell ya, Pheebs, it's gonna be _real_ eventful."

"But Helga, your grandparents are coming all the way from Hungary to stay with you, this year…"

"Yeah, so? I've only met them like, three times." Helga dismissed. "Anyway, what are you and _Geraldo_ doing this year?"

"We'll be going to stay with my Mom and Dad for a few days, since there isn't a lot of room at the Johanssen's, now that Timberly's had the baby and all…"

"I still can't believe that." Helga said flatly. "What is she – _eighteen_?!"

"Sixteen," Phoebe blushed.

"Right, hmph," Helga scoffed. "What a moron."

It had been an outright scandal when Gerald's younger sister, Timberly, had fallen pregnant accidentally, but somehow, the family was getting by. Nobody had been happy about it, except for, maybe, Timberly herself – but then again, she wasn't the brightest spark, and had no idea what to expect when it came to motherhood. Her family wouldn't have dreamt of turning her out, but it certainly wasn't easy. Still, she had a lot of family support and though it was hard at times, the baby girl brought a lot of joy to their lives.

Helga and Phoebe finally made it back to their dorm and busted open the door, saturated from the rain. Helga quickly dumped her sodden books down carelessly by her bed, picked a couple back up, gave them a once-over, and tossed one into her overnight bag.

"Some light reading," she shrugged, as Phoebe rolled her eyes.

Phoebe knew Helga would be coming back to college straight after the Christmas holidays into sitting her final exams and would need to be studying. Then again – doing a double degree in law and English literature, majoring in both criminal law and poetry, no less – Helga wasn't the type that really needed to do much study. She was entirely too intelligent for her own good, could debate a point until she was blue in the face – which Phoebe knew would make her an excellent court lawyer – and usually passed her tests and exams with flying colours. Truth be told, Helga was mildly bored of college and hadn't found it much of a challenge.

Being Helga's roommate for the past four years, Phoebe knew this all too well. Her best friend had always been a complicated creature, but she knew without a doubt that, although she would become a force to reckon with in the courtroom one day, Helga's passion was for poetry.

Ever since their first day at P.S 118 16 years ago, Phoebe had been the one privileged being whom Helga let in on her deepest secret – her obsessive love for Arnold. The poetry she wrote even back then was exquisite, and she had gone on to win many high school and college poetry competitions. If you didn't know better, one might think Helga G. Pataki wasn't one for poetry, but Phoebe knew she had a sensitive, soulful side, too, that the outside world rarely got a glimpse of.

"Well Pheebs, I'm hitting the road. Time to get outta this dump for a few weeks."

"Alright, Helga. Be careful on the road; the conditions look atrocious out there!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. You know me. When's Gerald coming to pick you up?"

"He'll be around later this evening. I've got a few things I want to wrap up here before we go."

"Does that include Christmas presents?" Helga raised an eyebrow enquiringly.

"Nope, I've done all that!" Phoebe grinned. "Speaking of which…" she pulled out a small box wrapped in purple wrapping paper and handed it to her.

Helga grimaced inwardly, thinking of the pile of gifts she'd bought but hadn't yet wrapped, sitting in the bags they had come in on the back seat of her car…and the present she still hadn't wrapped for Phoebe.

"Damn it, Pheebs, you know I haven't wrapped yours up yet!"

"Oh Helga, of course I know!"

"Yeah, I bet you already know what it is, too, don't you?" Helga scoffed and walked to her bedroom. She picked up the two tickets to the _Hillwood Annual Physics and Astronomy Exhibition_ off of her dressing table.

"Well, they ain't wrapped, but, Merry Christmas, Pheebs." Helga said as she handed the tickets to Phoebe.

"Oh, Helga! How did you know I wanted to go to this?"

The blonde girl shrugged. "It's 'nerd central' so I figured you and Gerald would fit right in."

"Thanks, Helga…I hope you like your present, too."

"I'll open it on Christmas morning. But now, I gotta hit the road or I'll get stuck in traffic. Smell ya later."

"Uh…Helga?"

"Hm?" Helga barely had a nanosecond to breathe before the tiny black-haired young woman came up and hugged her.

"Merry Christmas, bestie! I know you'll have a simply _swell_ time with your family. And enjoy your holiday to Mexico in the New Year!"

Helga tensed up and then softened, returning the embrace. If anyone, she would always have a soft-spot for Phoebe. Quickly she pried herself free.

"Alright already! Sheesh! Merry Christmas to you, too. I'll see you when I get back from Mexico. And make sure you text me!"

"Making sure!"

Phoebe's dainty voice chimed down the hallway after Helga as she wrapped her scarf more tightly around her neck, shrugged her bag over her shoulder, and made her way down into the parking lot, where her crummy little green car awaited for the long journey back to Hillwood.

_Criminy, this traffic won't even __**budge**__!_ Helga protested inside her head. _There's gotta be a shortcut somewhere around here…_

It seemed like the entire township of Wellington was shaping up and shipping out for the Christmas holidays, including many college students. For some reason, bad weather always made the traffic worse. Helga sighed heavily, honked the horn like so many other horn-honkers and checked herself out in her rear vision mirror for boredom's sake.

At around about the age of twelve, when she was starting to change from a shapeless prepubescent girl into a more womanly teenager, Helga had been subjected to torturous shopping outings with Olga at almost every opportunity. Long-gone were the pink pinafores, pigtails and tennis shoes. Even though Olga was trying to morph Helga into a mini-me, Helga cared so little about her appearance anyway that she didn't really mind what her older sister did to her, if it meant keeping her happy.

It wasn't until she had been treated to a spa and beauty treatment for her thirteenth birthday that her attitude towards becoming more feminine began to change. In her first year of high school, Helga was tormented relentlessly about her mono-brow by the other girls, in which she promptly either beat every single one of them to a pulp, or cunningly found a way to blackmail them so they would leave her be. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd committed either task – ever since her days at P.S 118, she was a seasoned pro.

But, once she let it slip that she was being bullied (for once in her life) by the other girls, Olga had immediately made it her life ambition to do whatever she could to put a stop to it. She promptly booked an appointment at the spa – using the excuse of it being a "birthday gift" – and the two went for a top-to-toe makeover. Nails were clipped and filed back, exfoliants and facials were applied in excess, limbs were waxed to smoothest perfection and brows were plucked to within an inch of their life – the whole shebang. Afterwards, Helga looked and felt like a whole new person – and she liked what she saw. Now she finally understood what Olga had been prattling on about all these years.

Helga was so impressed by the results that, from that day on, she waxed her eyebrows every month and finally grew out the dorky bowl-cut fringe she had sported her entire life and wore her hair down around her shoulders. Needless to say, her high school peers were dumbfounded by the transformation and even the boys' heads were turning.

Now that Helga rocked long, sleek, ice-blonde hair that fell to the middle of her back with a stylish centre part – not even a hint of a fringe left in sight – her plan for world domination was closer within reach. In a weird but somehow liberating victory ceremony, she and Olga had burned the pink bow at a bonfire on the beach one night that had forever been emblazoned as her childhood crown, and now Helga owned not one piece of pink-coloured apparel, preferring tones such as dove grey, white, blue, green, black, tan and tartan, which made her eastern European features look all the more striking.

By the time Helga had sat at the same traffic lights for five consecutive traffic-light changes, going on twenty-five minutes, she decided it was time for an intervention. In a barely-controlled fit of rage, she swerved out onto the other side of the road and manoeuvred a U-turn up and over the island with military precision. Her tiny car held on for all its life was worth as she put her foot to the floor.

"_Move it, losers!_"

Helga switched back a few times and took some side-streets, but she felt like she was making better progress than sitting on the main highway idle. However, other fellow holidaymakers were still not spared her wrath.

"Get. Out. Of. My. _WAY_!"

After about thirty minutes of zigzagging and backtracking, Helga finally came to the outskirts of Hillwood – albeit from a completely different direction – and some of the major landmarks of the city were starting to come into view. As she crossed the bridge over the Skookumchuk River, a mixed wave of calm and nostalgia hit her.

It had been a year since Helga had been home, mainly due to studies, but also because Olga had been living at the Pataki's with her husband who had recently become unemployed. Since they'd had a new baby six months before, there was no way they could afford to stay in their home, with Olga being a stay-at-home mother, and her husband with no job. Big Bob had taken pity on the man and employed him at the Beeper King until something better came up.

_Man, it's raining cats and dogs! _Helga thought as she cruised through the city, passing by Elk Island. She wasn't too far from home, now.

Through the murky windscreen and sheets of rainwater, Helga made out some familiar shops and houses. Even after more than ten years, Gerald Park was still a vacant lot – although it had become more of a dumpster again, of late.

_Well, I guess some things __**never**__ change._

As Helga was about to take off at a green light, a pedestrian came out of nowhere and ran straight across the road in front of her.

"_Criminy_!"

Helga screeched on her brakes and sat on the horn, a vitriolic stream of expletives spewing from her mouth. The pedestrian didn't so much as look back or gesture an apology but continued running blindly across the intersection, his pathetic umbrella blown inside-out and now rendered completely useless.

_Does that guy have a death wish or something?!_

Obviously, he was trying to get out of the storm, but that was no excuse for jay-walking in Helga's book.

_Now would be the perfect time for that jackass to have an impromptu lecture about how he nearly killed himself – __**and**__ me, for that matter. _

She swerved right up by the sidewalk next to him, submerging him in gutter water. Helga mentally high-fived herself – if he wasn't wet before, her certainly was now.

"Do you have _any_ idea what you just did back there, _bucko_?!" Helga shrieked as she rolled down the passenger's side window. "I almost flattened, ya, that's what! I had right of way!"

The figure stood there, motionless for a moment, with his parka hood pulled up and completely drenched, clenching and unclenching his fists in what looked like passive-aggressive rage. Finally, after what Helga assumed were a few breaths to calm himself, he turned his head to face her. Neither of them could have known what was coming.

Helga shrank back into her seat in shock. "…_Arnold_?!"

"…_Helga_?"

Phantom: Oooh a cliff-hanger on the first chapter?! How dare I?! Muahahaha…stay tuned for the next instalment!


	2. Chapter 2

Phantom: Wow! I am overwhelmed at how well the reception of this story went! I'm really glad you like it and that I've already had some great reviews. I had no idea that the HA! fanfiction community was so big; I guess it really is still quite popular! Anyway, I won't prattle on, here we are with the second episode, enjoy!

Chapter 2

o0o

To say Helga was shocked to see her childhood crush – now in adulthood – had to be the understatement of the century. If it hadn't been for his uniquely shaped head, she probably wouldn't have recognised him. The Arnold Helga now saw wasn't like the Arnold she remembered from a few years ago in high school, though. He was looking unkempt – unshaven, circles under his eyes and not a scrap of emotion to be seen. It was like the life had left his eyes. Helga didn't think she'd ever seen someone looking so forlorn in all her life.

He was still rather scrawny – as he had always been – but now in a more muscular kind of way, and Helga remembered that, in high school, everyone had been surprised when the kid known as "short man" had had a growth spurt at about age 14 – even Arnold himself. He no longer lived up to that name and stood at about the same height as Helga now did – a limber 5'10".

Helga immediately regained her composure on the outside whilst mentally having a breakdown on the inside. The boy of her childhood dreams had become a man and had materialised right before her eyes, after going some three or so years having last seen him. The unexpected encounter dredged up a whole boatload of muddled emotions that caught Helga off guard.

"That's right, _football-head_," she glared her trademark glare at him. "and you of _all_ people should know better than to cross the road at a red light! I damn-near mowed you down flat!"

"I really shouldn't be so surprised that it was _you_ who got me all wet on purpose, either." Arnold deadpanned, ignoring the fact that he very nearly _did_ get run over.

Suddenly Helga felt embarrassed, and almost pitied him for being out in the rain with a busted umbrella – almost. "Err – well – get in, then. I'll give you a ride home." she shrugged.

"Thanks, but–"

"I _said_, get _in_!"

Arnold rolled his eyes an opened the car door. "Thanks, then, I guess."

There was momentary silence that could have been cut with a knife as Helga rolled off again. Arnold stared glumly out the windscreen, his hair dripping wet, saturated just like the rest of him. Helga's heart was now pounding like a gorilla in mating season as she thought of how to act next.

_This has been the worst day of my __**life**__,_ Arnold thought. _What more could go wrong today?_

"So, how's life, _Arnaldo_? Been a while, huh." Helga chortled.

"Not much changes around here, Helga."

"You got _that_ right. Sheesh, I'm glad I'm only going to be here for a couple of weeks; I don't think I could _stand_ it any longer than that." She glanced sideways at him. upon receiving only silence, she continued. "Why so glum?"

Arnold turned to her and Helga could have sworn the despondent young man was about to burst into tears at any moment.

_Geeze, what has __**happened**__ to him?…_

"I was contacted by the Argentinean government today," he mumbled. "They called to say that my parents died two years ago…and it's taken them this long to find out who their next of kin was…which was me."

Helga felt her blood turn to ice and her heart to stone. The topic of Arnold's parents had been something so rarely brought up in conversation that it was almost taboo. All the kids had known, when they were younger, is that Arnold's parents were off being missionaries somewhere in South America.

"I'm…I'm really sorry to hear that, Arnold." She replied quietly.

"They never came to see me, Helga, not once." Arnold replied, turning to her. Helga nearly felt her heart break in seeing how dejected he looked. "Their work in the jungle was more important than seeing their own son…I lost hope in ever seeing them again a long time ago, but I didn't think they would be _dead_."

Helga hadn't had to deal with death on many occasions and felt rather awkward. "Do you know how they passed?"

"The government official said something about being held hostage by a rival tribe, but didn't say much more than that. I'd heard enough by then, anyway."

"That's rough, Arnold…I'm sorry."

"Thanks, Helga. They've been buried in a cemetery in San Lorenzo, so…I guess maybe one day I'll visit."

Helga now understood why Arnold was looking and feeling the way he was. It was an utter shame that the boy who had so long been the benefactor of his friends and family now had no support of his own – and Helga thought it was appalling that his parents had never been to see him, not even once. Sure, Bob and Miriam weren't perfect, but at least they'd always been there. All Arnold had ever had was his sharp-as-a-tack grandfather and his loopy grandmother to look up to.

They drove in silence a while until Helga realised she was heading toward the old red boarding house – it was unlikely Arnold still lived there – so she slowed down.

"Where am I dropping you?"

"At the boarding house."

Helga looked at him askance. "Are you telling me you're still living with your _grandparents_? Doi! You're 20 years _old_, for crying out loud!"

"Helga, my grandparents both died earlier this year." Arnold replied flatly.

_Nice one, Helga_, she chastised to herself, putting her foot in it. _Now Arnold __**really**__ doesn't have anyone left…_

"Sorry."

"They were both 91, so I guess you can't complain too much if you get to that age."

"So you must be spending Christmas with the other boarders then, right?" Helga asked, desperately searching for a silver lining.

Arnold shook his head. "Nope, it's just me now, Helga. The boarders that were living there when I was younger all moved on years ago…except for Mr. Hyunh, and he's going to be at Mai's this year."

_Criminy. This really __**is**__ going from bad to worse. Think, Helga old girl, think!_

"Well you can't spend Christmas Day by _yourself_, Arnold." Helga stated as if it were preposterous to even speak of such an idea. "What about Gerald? I know Phoebe is going to be there with him and his family tomorrow."

"Christmas Day is meant to be about family, Helga. I wouldn't want to intrude."

The twosome finally made it up to Arnold's stoop, and Helga had to think quick and hard about what she was going to say next.

_I can't believe the __**stupid**__ football head is still living here! After all these years, so much has changed and people have moved away…yet he's still here. My childhood crush, all alone on Christmas Day…_

Then came the unbidden thought.

_Should I invite him to Bob and Miriam's? I don't know what he would find worse – being here by __**himself**__ or being there with __**them**__ – and me…and my crazy Hungarian grandparents. Doi. _

Then schoolgirl-crush-Helga decided to make a cameo appearance.

_Oh, Arnold! My darling, how could I leave you on the most festive and merriest of days of the year? The day that is meant to be about giving and sharing with loved ones. How I have longed for you to be by my side at Christmas for so many, many torturous years…I remember that Christmas that I gave up my Nancy Spumoni snow boots for you so you could find Mr. Hyunh's daughter for him…and that Thanksgiving Day we spent together, how wonderful it was…_she sighed girlishly at the memory. _What if we could have that day again but now? As adults? Is this a sign? Is this my chance to __**finally**__ confess my most intimate desires from my girlhood? Would you even understand…?_

"Do you wanna come to my place tomorrow, then?"

Arnold looked surprised – so surprised Helga nearly cringed. "Really, Helga, you don't have to –"

"I mean, not that Christmas Day at the _Patakis'_ is anything to rave about but hey, Miriam puts on a good show with the food when she doesn't burn the stuffing, so it's gotta be better than spending Christmas Day by yourself, eating Pringles and watching lame Christmas movies, Arnaldo. So whatd'ya say?"

The verbal diarrhoea was something Helga seemed unable to prevent coming forth whenever she was around Arnold, even at this age, and she wished sometimes that she was able to stuff the words right back down her throat. Neither one said anything for a moment. They simply sat there eyeballing each other for what felt to Helga like a lifetime of agonizing torture.

"Um…okay, Helga. If you insist."

"Damn right I insist, _bucko_. So, see you about noon. Don't be late."

"What do I bring?" Arnold asked through the window after he'd hopped out of the car.

Helga shrugged. "Don't worry about _that_ – I got it covered. Bye!"

"Okay…bye."

As soon as Arnold was safely inside, Helga took off, near hyperventilation and trembling in both anxiety and anticipation. The tables and turned and now what she had expected to be yet another dull annual family affair was sure to be a now very _interesting_ Christmas indeed.

o0o

It was some time just before noon when Arnold had shown up at the Pataki residence. Helga had been painstakingly trying to pick an outfit all morning – all thoughts of it being Christmas and opening presents pushed to the side.

_I have more important matters to attend to than opening __**Christmas**__ presents right now – __**Arnold**__ is coming over, and thus I need my outfit to really smash it out of the park. This is my __**one**__ chance to redeem myself and impress Arnold if I ever want him to realise my feelings for him. If I let him go home today without him knowing how I feel, I will deem myself a __**complete**__ failure. But I'm stronger than that! Is it completely tragic that I still feel this way? Wait, don't answer that!_

Overnight – whilst lying in her single bed back in her girly pink room that hadn't changed much since she was a pre-teen – Helga had been pondering in-depth about her relationship with the boy, which had always been complicated, to say the least. Her crush on him had been a relentless, raging torrent of love-hate push-pull since she was the age of three (which can't have been normal) right up until about age 17. Once they had both finished high school and – after 14 years of seeing each other on an all but daily basis – parted ways, it became easier to deal with, and Helga had chosen to immerse herself in her college studies.

After not seeing Arnold for so long, Helga had come to the conclusion that all it had been was a crush in her youth that had taken some time to subside. But, having seen Arnold now again, three years after high school had ended, it had all regurgitated itself back up again, stronger than ever.

Helga had concluded that her feelings for Arnold had not in fact died and withered away, but in truth had remained the same as they always had. Now that she was home for the holidays, and just so happened to run into him and realised these things, she took it as a sign to finally own up and tell him exactly how she felt, and all she could do was hope for the best outcome – whatever _that_ might be.

_Geeze, Helga…anyone'd think you're completely __**nuts**__ if they knew you were still in love with the same guy you had been since you were at __**preschool**__…That is so messed __**up**__! _

Helga realised, with a start, that she had almost been "holding out" for Arnold all this time. If ever a boy had approached her at a bar or some other suchlike social occasion, Helga would promptly reject them, even if there wasn't anything specifically "rejectable" about them – even if they were in fact passably good-looking, Helga wasn't interested. Secretly, deep down inside, she still held a torch for Arnold. In Helga's mind, he would forever remain on an unreachable pedestal.

Helga was popular with the boys, but none of them would ever match up to the standard that Arnold was. About the closest Helga had ever become with anyone – _intimately_ – was a couple of drunken one night stands at college parties or after particularly boozy nights out on the town in Wellington. On one such occasion she'd become blind drunk and had unceremoniously lost her virginity, barely remembering a thing. It was one of her biggest regrets to date; something that was _supposed_ to be special she had given away without so much as a "wham, bam, thank you ma'am". Thank the nine Hells she hadn't fallen pregnant from it.

After a brief consultation with Phoebe on the phone to discuss this latest turn of events, it was decided (with Phoebe's expert advice) that it was time to man up and stop being such a wimp.

_The worst that could happen is that Arnold reacts with complete and utter rejection and revulsion…but I can live with that. What I __**can't**__ live with is carrying on living like this, not telling, tormenting myself, and forever thinking "what if?". It's absurd, I tell ya! Absurd!_

After not finding a single thing in her wardrobe that she found even remotely appealing, Helga decided to enlist Olga for help (something she would rarely have done otherwise). Olga, living up to her fashionista reputation, had nonetheless picked a few mix'n'match pieces that Helga wouldn't have dreamed of putting together, but ended up making it the perfect outfit. She had curled the ends of Helga's hair, hair-sprayed it to perfection, applied a little makeup – and _voila_. Flawlessness had been achieved. Helga should have known Olga was a pro at this.

Helga felt electrified the moment the doorbell rang and, having been sitting in the lounge for some time that morning drinking boozy eggnog to try and take the edge off, sprung up and went to the door.

_Alright, Helga old girl, you can do this. Just. Don't. Blow it!_

She took a deep breath, let it out calmly, and assumed her more usual nonchalant demeanour as she opened the door. "About time, Arnold! What took you?"

"Uh…it's not even noon yet, Helga," Arnold answered, frowning a little.

Helga immediately checked herself. "Oh, right. Well, then, come in."

Arnold walked into the foyer and took off his scarf and coat. Helga was pleasantly surprised to see that he was looking in much better shape than he was yesterday – his hair was done, he was clean shaven and he smelt really nice – not to mention his outfit was tasteful. His green eyes were clear and sparkling again after a good nights' rest and he appeared overall in better spirits than he did yesterday – more like the Arnold Helga remembered. It was almost more than she could bear.

"Um…Merry Christmas, Helga. This is for you, for letting me spend Christmas Day with you and your family." Arnold awkwardly handed her an envelope.

Helga took it and at once thought it would just be some lame Christmas card. But, upon opening it, she found two tickets inside. "Tickets to the _Extreme Rage Pro-wrestling Extravaganza Event of the Year_!? Arnold…these must have cost you a _fortune_!"

Arnold shrugged. "It was the least I could do, Helga."

Helga could just about have cried with joy. She knew how much Big Bob had wanted to go to the show and she was excited about going, herself, but knew that being on such a pitiful student allowance, and working part-time at the ice cream parlour in Wellington, she wouldn't have been able to afford it. How did Arnold know? Bob would be over the moon, but now she had to think of a way to repay Arnold…and knowing that Arnold wasn't particularly one for material things, she would have to put some thought into it. For now, though, the best way to calm her nerves was obvious: eggnog, and a lot of boozy Christmas pudding.

o0o

Phantom: Sooo I just thought I'd say that since I work full time, I don't get a heck of a lot of time to write, except for on weekends (like now). Thus, I will aim to post a chapter a week, but if it becomes two weeks without a post, fear not! I am not going to give up on this one, since ya'll seem to like it so much ;-) thank ya and see ya at Chapter 3!


	3. Chapter 3

Phantom: Howdy ya'll…here I am back with the next chapter. I'm really appreciative of all the feedback so far! I hope you like where this story is going; my creative juices are flowing at the moment so I'm gonna hop on the wave and ride it while I can! Cowabunga!

Chapter 3

o0o

"The goulash, Miriam! Don't burn the goulash!"

"_Oh, alright, Pa, I won't burn the goulash…geeze…it's all under control in here_!" Miriam shouted back.

Helga glanced into the kitchen warily, hoping her mother knew what she was doing. Typically every time Miriam had tried to make her in-laws' infamous staple dish so widely consumed in their home country, she burnt it. Considering goulash was generally some derivative of a meaty soup, this puzzled Helga. How does one burn _soup_?! Luckily Olga was watching her like a hawk, so Helga could relax a little and concentrate on more important matters, like making sure Arnold wasn't merely sitting through Christmas Day suffering in silence. Fortunately that didn't seem to be the case, so far.

In fact, the day had been going fairly smoothly so far by Pataki standards. Miriam hadn't burnt the stuffing (or the goulash), Olga's baby was in a fairly placid mood, nobody was drunk (yet) and Helga hadn't received any lame presents this year; in fact, they were all pretty nifty considering what she had received in years past. It had been snowing for most of the day on and off, but with a warm hearth inside and eggnog in their bellies, the people of Hillwood were feeling merry. Even Arnold seemed at ease with Helga's family, and, much to her relief, there had been no recounting of humiliating childhood stories about her undying love for him or anything of the sort – not that her parents had taken much notice of that, anyway, way back then.

"So, Alberto, what're you doin' for a living these days?" Big Bob asked as they sat at the table waiting for their lunch.

"It's _Arnold_, Dad," Helga corrected through grit teeth.

"I'm working at the steel mill," Arnold replied, seemingly unperturbed being called the wrong name. "I've been there since I left high school, about four years ago, now."

Helga just about dropped her fork. She remembered the time when she, Arnold and Gerald went down to the abandoned train station and boarded the "ghost train", thinking they were headed straight to the fiery depths of Hell, and only then to find out it actually took them to the inferno of Hillwood's local steel mill, which they had never known existed. For some reason, she couldn't picture Arnold being a blue-collar. He seemed more fit to be something like a teacher, or an author, or even a zookeeper, but not a labourer.

"Do you like working there, Arnold?" Olga asked, leaning in and batting her eyelashes. Helga felt the taste of bile rise to her throat.

"It's been a good job, but I never got the chance to go to college, since my grandma got sick. I had to start working pretty much as soon as I finished high school to help support both her and my grandpa." Arnold replied. "I'm thinking about leaving the steel mill soon, and doing something else, maybe study, or maybe I'll go travelling, who knows?" Helga noticed his face brighten up at that prospect, and felt her heart melt a little.

"Helga's doing a double-degree at college aren't you, honey?" Bob boasted. "You'll be graduating next year."

"Right you are, father." Helga replied dryly.

"What are you studying, Helga?" Arnold asked.

"Law." She replied curtly.

"_And_ literature, honey," Miriam sang out from the kitchen. Helga rolled her eyes. She could see where this was going.

"She's majoring in poetry. You should hear some of these poems she writes! She's damned talented, you know," Bob added.

Helga felt her face flush. This was one topic she was hoping to evade whilst in Arnold's company. "Dad, please."

"Oh, Helga! You must read us that poem that won you that competition, honey," Miriam piped up. "I'm sure Ma and Pa, and Arnold would all love to hear it."

Arnold glanced at her from across the table. "I had no idea you were into poetry, Helga."

"Not many people _do_," Helga quietly seethed, glaring at her mother.

"Please, honey?"

"Oh, yes, Helga, read us the poem!" Olga now jumped on the bandwagon.

"Alright, alright! But I'm pretty sure Grandma and Grandpa won't get it because it ain't in Hungarian."

"We like the poetry!" the elderly man at the end of the table finally spoke up, the first time Arnold had heard him speak all day. "Read the poetry, Helga! Read the poetry!"

"_Rendben van_! Okay! Criminy, keep your _pants_ on, I'll get the damned poem!" Helga rolled her eyes heavily and left the table to get the poem from her bedroom.

_Criminy, this is __**just**__ what I need. Now Arnold knows I write poetry, and what's more, the damned poem they want to hear is about what I would do if I could go back in time…and it's about __**him**__! _

When Helga returned, everyone in the room glanced at her expectantly. Helga had written this poem one night when she got to thinking about Arnold, and how ridiculous it was that she had held onto these feelings for so long. Writing this poem was like closing the book and she had decided then and there that it was time to let it go. It was time to say goodbye and it was too late to do anything about it now. She had had her chance. At PS 118. At high school. Heck, even before she went to college she had attended a leaver's ball, but thus, she would rather fall on her sword than tell. There had been myriad opportunities for Helga to express her deepest desires to the blonde-headed boy, but she'd seized none of them. Now she would just have to live with it.

She cleared her throat a little, and glanced quickly at Arnold. "This poem is called 'If I Could Change Time'. I wrote it when I was 18."

"_If I could change time, and fate,_

_To see you standing at the gate,_

_Your golden blonde hair shining,_

_And falling around your face._

_I would not be cruel,_

_Or dismissive, or blind,_

_But simply smile and wave,_

_Responding to you in kind._

_If I could change time,_

_I would come a-knocking at your door,_

_Take back all the cruel words I said,_

_That made you feel so poor._

_If I spoke the truth, _

_Told you I was done with the lies_

_And told you from my heart _

_That I love you,_

_Would it have made any difference to our lives?_

_If I could change time_

_And erase the pain_

_Of whose fault was all mine,_

_Would that make it all okay?_

_And though, my love for you, _

_Had largely gone unseen,_

_How were you to know?_

_For by the day, I grew ever more mean._

_But I know now, that_

_I cannot change time._

_My choices back then, _

_They were not so wise._

_Through all these years, I have had to endure_

_There is one thing, I know for sure._

_My love for you, forever burns_

_But will it ever be returned?_

_I know I've left my run too late,_

_And I have only myself to berate_

_For leaving it til the eleventh hour,_

_It's too late to change time now._

_And if this rain will never end,_

_Then into madness I descend._

_As you stand there, bathed in light,_

_Will you ever know my plight?"_

A deathly silence hung in the air as Helga finished her poem, and she felt like sinking into the floor. Bob and his Hungarian elders began to clap their appreciation slowly, followed by Miriam and Olga collectively bursting into tears. Then the baby started crying and Olga's husband, Jeremy, jolted awake from having been snoozing right through it. Arnold smiled and began clapping too. Helga inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a bead of perspiration run down her neck. Usually public speaking didn't bother her in the slightest, but having her childhood crush sitting in the room put a new dimension on it.

"_Gyönyörű_!" Helga's grandmother shouted emphatically. "Beautiful!"

"It gets me every time!" Miriam wailed.

"Helga, it's s-so…so…beautiful!" Olga exploded, keening with her mother.

Helga rolled her eyes. "Oh, brother. Get a grip, you two."

"That was a beautiful poem, Helga. I didn't know you had such a way with words." Arnold commented. "What else have you written?"

"Oh, not much, really." Helga thought about the various jumbo-sized writing pads she'd motored through in her youth writing poems and short stories of her idealized life involving the foot-ball headed boy, which was so far removed from her reality it was absurd.

o0o

"Miriam! What in damnation is taking so long?! I'm wasting away out here!"

"_Oh…oh dear – oh…no, oh this is just terrible…_"

"Miriam? Tell me you haven't burnt the-whoop! Ah, Christ! My back!"

Helga had been staring dreamily into Arnold's green eyes as he recounted a story about a trip to the Florida Keys with his grandparents when he was younger, when there was a great, thundering _whap!_ followed by an unearthly howling sound coming from the kitchen. Immediately she snapped out of it and they went to see what the fuss was about. As she and Arnold walked in, they noticed Big Bob lying awkwardly on his back in what appeared to be a big pile of goulash all over the floor.

"What the hell happened?!" Helga shrieked. "Dad? Are you okay?"

"Mr. Pataki, are you hurt?" Arnold knelt down to the man.

"Oh, B…you shouldn't have come in!" Miriam wailed in despair. "The handle came off of the pot and I spilt the goulash on the floor…"

"Call the damned ambulance for crying out loud!" Bob shrieked. "I think I've broken my back!"

"Daddy? Oh, Daddy! What happened?" Olga immediately started crying the moment she saw her father on the floor.

Soon the whole Pataki family was in the kitchen standing around Bob wondering what to do and trying to figure out what happened. Helga's grandparents were shouting furiously to each other in Hungarian and gesticulating wildly; Olga was crying which in turn set off the baby, Bob was screaming in agony, Miriam was flailing her arms about helplessly and soon there was so much noise that nothing could be heard above the tumult.

Arnold looked at Helga a little perplexedly, probably traumatised that her family was made up of such morons that apparently had no idea what to do in an emergency. Helga was simmering on the inside, beyond humiliated. If anything was going to be done about this quandary, she would have to take matters into her own hands.

"_Alright, everybody! Back it up!_" she shrieked, and pointed to her grandparents, Olga and Jeremy first.

"You lot, _out_! Miriam, _out_! Arnold, call the ambulance! Dad, stay right there!"

"Like I have a _choice_!" Bob groaned.

"I'm going to start cleaning up this _damned_ mess, and by the time the ambulance gets here, you all should have gotten a hold of yourselves! Criminy!"

o0o

"I'm really impressed with the way you handled the situation back there, Helga." Arnold said as they sat in the A&E waiting room. "You should have joined the military," he joked.

Helga sighed and leant further back into the uncomfortable plastic chair. "Something always goes wrong at Christmas in my family, Arnold. I should have known better than to invite you. It could have been _you_ that slipped over in that godforsaken goulash!"

"It was an accident, Helga; these things happen. Don't worry about it, everything's going to be fine."

"I'm sure you would rather have spent today by yourself than in a hospital waiting room though," Helga sighed.

Just then, Olga came down the corridor from where Bob had been laid up. "Daddy's just come out of x-ray, Helga, and he's got a fractured vertebrae…but don't worry, he's going to be just fine!"

"Well _that's_ a relief," Helga said with a hearty eye roll. She and Arnold stood up and began walking to the ward to see her father.

"See, what did I tell you?" Arnold smiled.

"So Dad, I see you're not paralyzed," Helga drawled as she went to his bedside.

"Nope, but being on this morphine is more or less the same thing, right?" Bob grunted, pressing the button for more of the pain-reducing drug.

"I'm glad you're okay, Mr. Pataki." Arnold said. "You'll be up and about again in no time."

"Thanks, Alfred. But the doc says I'm gonna have to lie flat for the next couple of weeks, so that means I won't be goin' to Mexico."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Pataki, but it could have been worse."

"Hey, that gives me an idea. Why don't you go in my place?"

"_What_?" Helga and Arnold both spoke in unison, totally dumbfounded.

"Dad, you can't be serious!" Helga shrieked. "Don't be so _ridiculous_!"

"Why the heck not?" Bob queried. "The kid saved my life by calling the ambulance, didn't he? And it would be a waste of a ticket, wouldn't it?"

There was momentary silence.

"He's got a point." Helga commented dryly.

"I don't know, Mr. Pataki, it wouldn't feel right taking your ticket. I just did what anyone would have done,"

"Nonsense! Consider it a Christmas present, kid – I owe ya one!"

"Really, I wouldn't feel comfortable –"

"Dad, just claim on your travel insurance, duh." Helga interrupted. "Problem solved."

"Oh, we never got around to that in the end," Miriam said from her chair in the corner. "Probably should'a…"

"Oh, for God's sake." Helga muttered. "Arnold, don't feel pressured into this – it's probably just the morphine talking."

Arnold turned back to Big Bob. "It's really kind of you, Mr. Pataki, but I couldn't possibly accept."

"Oh come on! What type of kid turns down a free trip to Mexico? I know Helga here wouldn't…"

"Dad!"

"What? You wouldn't! You're _my_ daughter, aren't you?" Bob huffed.

"Oh for the love of…"

"So, kid, what do you say?" it was Big Bob's final offer. "For saving my life, I'm relinquishing my ticket to Mexico for you. How about it?"

Helga gazed tensely at Arnold while he considered the proposal. She could feel her blood pressure rising with every passing second; the anticipation of what Arnold was going to say was pure torture.

Arnold had turned a mild shade of scarlet by this time, but finally it seemed that Big Bob Pataki had won him over. "Well…it sure is nice of you, Mr. Pataki. But only if it's okay with Helga and the rest of your family." he turned to the Pataki family at large.

Miriam was asleep in a chair, Helga's grandparents didn't speak much English, but Olga did a little jump and clapped her hands, exclaiming how much fun it would be to have Arnold there with them. On the contrary, Helga felt rather faint by the whole state of affairs and had to sit down next to her mother.

"Helga, how do you feel about this?" Arnold queried.

"Fine, just fine," she uttered faintly. It was literally all she could manage.

o0o

Phantom: Dun dun dunnnn…..well well well, what a turn of events…Helga's life is being turned upside down! Anyhow…you'll just have to wait and see what unfolds… PS: yes the poem was my own…it's not exactly Rudyard Kipling but it's something! Til next time, adios!


	4. Chapter 4

Phantom: Welp, it's Sunday evening and I didn't think I'd be posting this week, so count yourselves lucky! I'm sorry…if any of you have had to endure a root canal and gastro issues at the same time you'll know how grumpy that can make a person X_x still, I find solace in writing HA!. So please…enjoy.

Chapter 4

o0o

Later on in the day, after everyone had returned home from the hospital – including Big Bob talking garbage from the morphine – most of the elder folk in the Pataki household had fallen asleep from the enormous meal. Helga and Olga had managed to bang a turkey in the oven together with some roasted vegetables and a new batch of goulash by dinnertime. Everyone was, in fact, starving by the time they finally sat down to eat and subsequently they also consumed a little too much booze at the same time. It put most people back into festive spirits, however, and by the time dessert was served it was as if the incident with Bob and the goulash was but a distant memory.

By about 9pm, Olga was busy trying to put the baby down, her husband was shouting at the TV alongside Big Bob who was propped up in the la-z-boy wearing a back brace, and Miriam and her parents were asleep in recliners, which left Helga and Arnold to wash up in the kitchen. While Helga was up to her elbows in the kitchen sink, Arnold was drying the dishes for her.

"Are you sure you don't mind me coming to Mexico with you, Helga? I feel a little weird about it, to say the least."

"Like I have a choice! Dad practically _forced_ it on you." Deep down, she still couldn't believe it was happening. It couldn't have worked out more perfectly!

"Come on, Helga, I'm sure you've had to endure my presence in worse situations." He teased. "In fact, I bet it'll be great. Mexico sounds like a pretty nice destination for a winter break."

"You bet your baloney it'll be nice."

Arnold was quiet for a while and Helga noticed a small smile creep to his face, as if he was reminiscing about something nice.

"What are you smiling at?" she demanded.

"Do you remember that time we both happened to be on holiday at the beach that year, Helga? We must have only been about nine,"

_**Remember**__? How could I __**forget**__?!_

"Sure I do. What of it?"

Arnold shrugged. "It was kind of weird how we always seemed to bump into each other like that, even when we were both out of town. Don't you think?"

"_What_ other times? Refresh my memory, football-head."

"Um…okay, like the time we were camping, and you, Phoebe and your Dad showed up in the RV. And what about that time when my Grandpa backed into your Dad's car and they settled it by playing a game of golf?"

"And that Thanksgiving Day…" Helga added wistfully, absentmindedly washing the same plate over and over as she thought about that wonderful day when she and Arnold went to the docks, lamented their own families and then went to Mr. Simmons' place.

"…Helga?"

Suddenly she snapped back to it. "What?!"

"I think that plate's clean enough by now."

Helga frowned and handed him the plate for drying. "What's your point to all this, Arnaldo?"

"My point is, after all those years of you tormenting me, we still managed to cross paths in some way or another."

"So?"

"Well…don't you think it's kind of ironic that we've crossed paths _again_ now, in our twenties, having Christmas Day together?"

"Yeah…I guess you're right." Helga sighed. "Except, there's one thing missing from the picture."

Arnold looked confused. "What do you mean?"

_Now's your chance, Helga…_

"Nevermind." Helga dismissed, and quickly changed the subject. "So, what else have you got planned for the holidays, football-head?"

Arnold frowned. "I'd appreciate it if you stopped calling me that, Helga,"

"Sorry, force of habit," she shrugged it off. "So?"

"Not a lot, to be honest. I'm just glad to be having some time off work. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was thinking, um, now that my Dad's practically incapacitated…" Helga was feeling a little uncomfortable in asking Arnold her next proposal, but she figured she didn't have anything to lose. "Do you want to come to the _Extreme Rage Pro-wrestling Extravaganza_ show with me?"

Arnold smiled. "Sure! That would be great."

"I mean, just because my Dad can't go, it would be a waste of a ticket, and I'm pretty sure Phoebe or Olga wouldn't want to go. Not that I'd ask Olga, anyway," Helga added as an afterthought.

"You just don't want to go on your own," Arnold laughed.

"And that," Helga grinned.

"Well, the show is on the 27th. When are we going to Mexico?"

"The 30th – just in time for New Year's Eve. Cancun goes _off_ on New Year's Eve. It's going to be a riot." Helga smiled satisfactorily at a memory she had of a past holiday she spent there.

"Wow, Cancun! Sounds great, Helga…I can't wait."

Helga sighed dreamily inside; it was like a dream come to life to be able to go on vacation with Arnold. Though it was unfortunate that Big Bob had injured his back – again – the situation couldn't have worked out more in Helga's favour. _Oh, fate! What have you in store for me this time? Are you giving me my second chance? _

Once the washing up had been done, Arnold turned to Helga and smiled. "Well, I guess I'd better get home. It's after 10."

"Criminy! I didn't realise that was the time." Helga was genuinely amazed at how fast the day seemed to have gone.

She walked into the foyer and grabbed Arnold's coat for him. He shrugged it on, wrapped his scarf around his neck, and opened the door to step outside. A light snow had started falling again, and Helga had to catch her breath at how angelic the young man looked, standing on her doorstep in the golden hue of the street lamp with snowflakes falling in his hair.

"I've had a really nice time today, Helga…even with your Dad's mishap. It would have been much more boring spending the day alone. I want to thank you."

"Don't mention it, foot- I mean, Arnold. That's going to be a hard habit to break!"

They both laughed, especially Arnold. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"Shopping with Olga," Helga retorted. "She always makes me go along to those dumb after-Christmas sales. Like I have any money to spend."

Arnold chuckled. "Well, try and enjoy it. It doesn't seem like you get to spend much time with Olga anymore."

"Fine by me," Helga smiled. A small and slightly awkward silence followed. Helga envisioned it being the perfect time to step forward and kiss him, but she didn't dare.

"Do you want to meet at my house before the wrestling match on Wednesday then? We could get a bite to eat afterward, if you like." Arnold suggested.

Helga's heart skipped a beat. Was this turning into a date?

"U-uh…" she stammered. "Sure, sure. What time?"

"I don't know, say six? The show starts at seven-thirty."

Why would he want her to turn up an hour and a half early if they were going straight there? Maybe he had something else in mind… Helga quivered as her imagination ran wild.

"Sounds great, Arnold. See you then."

Needless to say, she was gobsmacked when Arnold stepped forward and embraced her. She couldn't even muster the strength to return the hold and felt herself turn to jelly in his arms.

"Thanks again for a great day, Helga. Goodnight."

"…goodnight, Arnold…"

…_my love, _she thought as she watched him walk off down the street, leaving only his footprints behind.

o0o

Helga and Arnold met as agreed at the boarding house on the evening of the 27th before going to the _Extreme Rage Pro-Wrestling Extravaganza Event of the Year_ show. It was a freezing cold and raining night, so Arnold suggested going for a hot chocolate somewhere beforehand to warm up, which Helga readily accepted. They headed to a café named _Zabaglione's_, which was in the Italian quarter. It was infamous for, obviously, zabaglione, as well as its' hot chocolates. Helga had been sold by the place since she first went there with Bob when she was five.

"So, how did your shopping outing with Olga go, yesterday?" Arnold asked after they'd found a table and placed their orders.

"Torturous," Helga retorted, recalling being towed around all the post-Christmas sales with her older sister. "We were at Kacy's from dawn til dusk! I tell ya, there are only so many underwear shops you can go into with your sister before it starts getting weird."

Arnold chuckled at that. "Can't say I can comment on that," he blushed a little.

"It's not like she can _afford_ anything at the moment anyway," Helga continued. "Her big-shot, high-flying Wall Street husband is now on minimum _wage_ working for my _Dad_ after his investments went kaput, and it's not like _she_ can work at the moment, what with the brat and all."

"That 'brat' is your niece, Helga." Arnold reminded. "Don't you love her?"

The question caught Helga off-guard. She'd never heard the 'L' word slip out of Arnold's mouth before and it made her quiver slightly. "Well…yeah, deep down I guess I do. Just not much of a _baby_ person, I suppose."

"That might change, one day." He smiled a little.

Helga frowned and sipped her hot chocolate. She decided to change the subject. Talking about babies really wasn't her strong point.

"So, you ever see anyone from school anymore? Besides Gerald, that is."

"Sure, I catch up with the guys occasionally. Harold's still around, Stinky went back to Texas a few years ago. Did you hear about what happened to Sid?"

"Oh, as in he went crazy, robbed a shopkeeper at knifepoint and had to go to the nut-house for a while? Sure, I heard about it," Helga replied matter-of-factly.

"He…didn't really go _crazy_, as such." Arnold said, scratching the back of his head. "But he got diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and ended up having to go to an asylum for a while. I think he's doing better now."

"I always thought he was a bit weird. Remember when he carved a voodoo soap sculpture of Principal Wartz? Ha! Who does that?" Helga snorted.

"Yeah, that was a bit weird…" Arnold admitted. "I heard Rhonda went to Paris to study fashion design."

"What a surprise," Helga muttered with an eye roll. "Whatever Princess wants, Princess gets."

"Nadine went on to become an entomologist, and Sheena joined the Peace Corps."

"No surprises there, either." Helga muttered. "What ever happened to Curly?"

Arnold blushed and muttered something unintelligible, causing Helga to raise an eyebrow. "Come again football-head, I didn't catch what you said."

"I said…he's a…err…" Arnold looked around, trying to think of a delicate way of addressing Curly's occupation. "Let's just say, he works in the 'adult entertainment' industry, now."

Helga's eyes bulged. "_What_?"

"Yes." Arnold nodded solemnly.

"You mean he's a…?"

Arnold remained stoic. "Yup."

After a few moments of digesting this information, Helga exploded into laughter. "Oh geeze, that's rich! So Curly's got a big schlong; who would have thought?"

"I guess Rhonda doesn't know what she's missing out on, huh," Arnold joked, scratching the back of his neck.

Helga laughed even harder. "Boy, oh boy, well _that_ one takes the cake. He always _was_ creepily obsessed with her."

"I heard Phoebe's nearly finished her degree, too?" Arnold mentioned, tactfully changing the subject from Curly's apparently legendary anatomy to something more palatable.

"Oh yeah," Helga replied. "She'll be on CSI before either of us can blink,"

"Yeah, forensic science, wow," Arnold sighed. "She was always the smart one, though. Not that you aren't, Helga."

"Yeah, yeah. Straight 'A' student right here, bucko. But enough about me," Helga dismissed. "What about you? Your grandparents got sick, so you had to work to look after 'em, right?"

"Well, my grandma did, yeah. She got Alzheimer's." Arnold looked down into his drink. "It got pretty bad, Helga. She had to go into a home, and after only a few weeks, she didn't remember who me or my Grandpa were. She deteriorated quickly."

Helga bit the inside of her cheek. She remembered the kooky old lady quite well; she had been a real character but, thinking back on it, she had shown signs of senility fairly early on, what with thinking that Thanksgiving was the 4th of July every year.

"And then, your Grandpa…?"

"I think he just gave up, to be honest. He loved my grandma so much; I think he just knew it was time to go. He was very old, and tired, and broken-hearted from the loss of his wife of 70-odd years. He passed away about two months later in his sleep."

Boldly, Helga reached for Arnold's hand over the table. She could see he was hurting, and she wanted to try to ease the pain for him. "They're together in a better place now, Arnold."

Arnold looked at her a little oddly, then squeezed her hand back. Helga thought she might faint as her heart raced into palpitations. "Thanks, Helga, I hope you're right."

Helga withdrew her hand and sat back in the booth. "So…not to sound inappropriate here, but, now that they're gone, what are _you_ going to do?"

Arnold was quiet for a little longer than Helga had expected in choosing his answer. _Cripes, have I offended him?_ _Perhaps the football head really __**doesn't**__ know what he's going to do now?_

"I'm not entirely sure yet, Helga, but I think it's time for a fresh start."

"What…do you mean?"

"I've been thinking about selling the boarding house," Arnold replied. "I was the sole beneficiary in my Grandparents' wills, so I've inherited it from them. Although it has been my home for my entire life, I feel like I'm kind of…_stagnating_ by staying there. Do you know what I mean?"

Helga was blindsided by this. She hadn't given any thought as to what might happen to the boarding house when Arnold's grandparents passed away, but thinking about it now, she supposed that it would probably go to him. They had nobody else to give it to, after all. She never imagined that Arnold might want to sell it, though.

"Well, it's a seller's market at the moment, why not?" she said. "If you're sure that's what you really want to do."

"I think so. I've been here in Hillwood my whole life. My parents are gone, my grandparents are gone. Now I'm free to do what I want. It's time to start living the life that _I_ want, Helga, rather than dealing with what everybody _else_ wants, or expects of me."

Arnold was right, Helga realised. The boy literally had the world at his feet. If he sold the boarding house and walked away with a tidy sum of money, he could set himself up elsewhere and start doing what he wanted to do, whether it be college, travel, or working someplace different.

"And what _is_ the life you want, Arnold?"

"I want to travel, Helga. I've always wanted to travel, see the world…" Arnold trailed off. "First and foremost, I'll probably go to San Lorenzo."

"For closure," Helga stated, more than asked.

"Yeah, I guess…"

"They owe you that much, at least." Helga said. "Anyway, this is getting morbid; let's go or we're gonna be late to the show! I hope you're ready for some body-slamming action, Arnaldo, it's gonna be off the chain."

"If you say so, Helga." Arnold smiled, noticing Helga was obviously uncomfortable with this deep talk.

He noted that this conversation wasn't over, though, and hoped they might talk some more later on. Helga really wasn't so bad when it came to discussing the more important matters of life; in fact she seemed to be very understanding and non-judgemental, which was a rare trait to possess. It would seem that Helga G. Pataki was starting to rub off on him.

o0o

Phantom: Oooh NOW what's going to happen? Hehehe… don't ask where I got the idea of Curly being a porn star from, in a weird way it just seemed to…fit. Maybe I need to hike up the rating :D au revoir fellow readers!


	5. Chapter 5

Phantom: Ugh, sorry for my painfully long absence. A lot has been going on lately that I can't even start to TELL you…not that you want to hear the author's ramblings, anyway! Booooorriiiiiiing. Now - back to the story. We're getting down into the nitty-gritty now, so hold onto your hat's folks…

Chapter 5

o0o

After the show, Helga was on a total high; Arnold didn't think he'd ever seen her so happy before. Well, except maybe a few times in school when she'd hit a home-run, or won some competition. Not that he was really one for wrestling; he just knew how much Helga liked it, and, truth be told, he wasn't on that bad a salary at the steel mill. The tickets were $150 a pop, but he knew it would be worth it – worth even going back out into that driving rain on Christmas Eve to buy them. And, by the look of things, it had obviously paid off.

These Christmas holidays had started out pretty lousy, but as soon as he'd run into his childhood tormentor it had, ironically, gotten much better. Not that he should feel self-righteous at Big Bob's expense – it was a pity that he'd injured his back – but he was over the moon to be going to Mexico. Since his grandparents had gotten sick, he hadn't had a decent holiday in years.

Not just that, but Helga had changed quite a bit since he'd last seen her, too. Her attitude hadn't changed much, but she had certainly become nicer since school. Deep down, he had always known she was a softie, but he hadn't put much effort into trying to get her to show that side of herself often. At PS. 118, he had always thought she hated him, and when Lila Sawyer started school, that seemed to detract his attention. By high school, the tables had turned and now _Helga_ was the one that was being picked on. Truth be told, Arnold felt a little sorry for her, but Gerald had firmly reminded him that she was just getting what she deserved, so he tried to shrug it off and let her deal with it herself. He knew she would merely reject any kind of intervention by him, anyway.

By his second year of high school, Lila had finally relented to Arnold's persistence and had agreed to date him. They were on and off for about two years, but Arnold had enjoyed almost every moment of it. They had shared a lot of "firsts" together, memories of which Arnold would always cherish. But, after a few years of on-off, push-pull, Arnold began to get sick of it, to the point where he began to resent Lila, and she him, both playing the blame game of toying with each other's emotions, not knowing what the other wanted. Arguments ensued, and finally, like throwing a bucket of water over a fire, it came to an abrupt end. After that, Lila joined the cheerleading squad and Arnold got an after-school job at the antique furniture store, and they rarely saw each other.

Arnold shook his head; he didn't want to be thinking about Lila right now. Tonight with Helga was going great, even if it wasn't officially a "date", but he liked how Helga seemed to have warmed to him over the past few days, so much more than she ever had, and for some weird reason, he felt like he was making progress with her. _Why_ he felt like he even _wanted_ to be making progress with the woman who had made his childhood a misery at times, was something he was still currently working on. It was baffling, but he liked it.

On a more instinctual level, Arnold had to admit that Helga had blossomed. Puberty had been kind to her, unlike most teens. Rhonda had been horrified when she had developed acne when she turned 14. But Helga was like the ugly duckling that had turned into the swan. Even in high school, when they had been about fifteen, Helga had sprouted perfectly sized breasts and a nipped-in waist which complemented her athletic figure. That, coupled with the fact that she stood a limber 5 ft. 10", was more than a lot of the young men could bear. She seemed oblivious to it, though, but Arnold certainly wasn't. Conflicting emotions about the complicated blonde girl had seeded themselves even then, but all the while Arnold had had Lila to distract him.

Presently, the twosome was dining in a small Greek _taverna_ having souvlakis and ouzo, talking about the highlights of the show. Arnold was enjoying seeing Helga speaking so freely and animatedly, and Helga herself was feeling pretty damned fantastic, too. This was about as close to a "date" as she had ever been on with Arnold – a _real_ date, that is. Inside she was both terrified and electrified.

"Did you _see_ Randy Vito slam that guy with the diving head-butt?" she exclaimed. "Man, that was out of this _world_! I've never seen a guy go down so fast in my _life_!"

Arnold came back to reality and chuckled, noticing she had some tzatziki sauce at the side of her mouth. He grabbed a serviette and reached out to wipe it off. "Here, you've got some sauce…just…"

Helga immediately freeze-framed. "Err, thanks, Arnold." She stuttered, going mildly red and taking the serviette from him.

"Helga, can I ask you something?"

She looked left, then right, then back at him. "This sounds serious?"

He laughed and looked down at his hands. "Not really, but, who was the poem you wrote about?"

Helga felt stifled for a moment. "Oh, uh, the poem?" she laughed nervously. "Just some boy at school; a nobody. Can't think why I even bothered writing that crap, now."

"But it sounded like you really liked this guy…"

_Crap. Crap. Crap! He's put me on the spot with this one!_

"I-is it getting stuffy in here?" Helga's voice had gone up in pitch by several octaves. "Let's go for a walk, I need some air."

"But you haven't even finished your falafel,"

"I – I'm full! Yup, stuffed as a boot. I'll get the bill and we'll go. It's on me, 'kay?"

Something Arnold had said had obviously flustered her, and now he thought he had a fairly good indication of what exactly that was.

o0o

Arnold wasn't sure where Helga was taking him, but they were walking in the general direction of the docks near Elk Island. It had stopped raining for the time being, but that didn't take from the fact that it was still bitterly cold. Still, with the remaining snow lying around, Arnold had to admit that Hillwood looked beautiful in the wintertime.

"Helga…why'd you bring me all the way out here? It's freezing."

"Remember when we came down here on that Thanksgiving, Arnold?" Helga ignored his questioning.

"Yeah,"

"We thought we had it so bad…but we didn't, really." Helga sighed. "Arnold, that was one of the best days of my life, spending that Thanksgiving with you. But…" Helga was really starting to feel the pressure now. "There's one other thing I wanted to tell you,"

"What's that, Helga?"

_Easy girl, no need to launch right into it, don't wanna scare him off now, do we? _

Helga steadied herself. "Remember that Christmas Arnold, when you were trying to find Mr. Hyunh's daughter?"

"Of course I do. I still never figured out how that happened…it was a Christmas miracle!"

"Well…n-not, really, Arnold." Helga replied. "I hate to burst your bubble, but, it was me…I helped to find Mr. Hyunh's daughter, for you."

The young man looked puzzled. "_You_? But how?"

"I…I overheard you, and Gerald, talking. We were both out doing Christmas shopping at the same time, and I overheard you saying that all you needed were these dumb _snow_-boots to give to the guy at the National Archives centre, and then he'd be able to find Mai for you."

"You _did_?"

"Yeah, and, well, I kind of knew that my parents had bought me those exact boots for Christmas. So…I went and gave them to the guy and damn near _begged_ him to look up the records to find Mai Hyunh…for you."

Arnold looked incredulous. "You did that…for _me_? But _why_? Helga, you never even had a good thing to _say_ about me when we were kids, let alone do something like _that_."

Helga could feel the tears starting to threaten – something she hadn't felt in a very long time. It was a rare occurrence to see Helga G. Pataki cry in public. Her face was burning and her heart felt like it was about to leap right out of her throat. Like a kettle boiling over on a stovetop, she could take the pressure no more.

"_Criminy_, football-head! Don't you _get_ it?" she shrieked. "I've been in _love_ with you since I was _three years old_! The poem was about _you_!"

Arnold looked as if someone had turned him to stone as he just stood there staring at her, dumbfounded. Helga grabbed onto the side of the bridge to steady herself, feeling she might faint at any moment.

"You…_what_?" he finally said after finding his voice.

Helga looked out across the bay, not quite believing what she had just said. She had dreamed so many nights of this moment, but in her dreams, it hadn't played out quite like this. It was a little more…theatrical.

"You heard me." She uttered quietly.

"Helga, that makes no _sense_."

"Why do you think I was so horrible to you, Arnold?" she quipped.

"You were mean to _everyone_–"

"Arnold, I was mean to you because I _liked_ you." Helga sighed heavily. It was like talking to an invalid. How could she possibly get him to understand?

"Liked…me? _Me_?" Arnold seemed to be just as disbelieving over the confession as Helga was that she had said it.

"I guess…I guess I never thought you would feel the same, and I was afraid that if you or anyone else ever found out how I felt, then I would be rejected and humiliated. So…I was mean to you, to cover up how I really felt."

It was a long few moments of silence before Arnold spoke. Now that Helga had finally got the guts to own up, she had never felt such release in her life – like the weight of a mountain sliding off of her shoulders. In a way it was like tasting freedom for the very first time, like a prisoner emerging into the light after a lifetime in a cold, dark dungeon. Arnold could take what he wanted from her confession – she didn't care anymore. All she cared about was how light she felt.

To her relief, Arnold smiled at her. "I always knew you weren't _all_ bad, Helga. You just never showed your softer side."

"I know," she muttered shamefully.

"But I didn't think you felt _that_ way, about me…" Arnold turned thoughtful. "Why me?"

Helga felt stifled for a moment; even _she_ wasn't sure entirely why Arnold had become her fixation. "I'm not really sure…" she admitted. "When we were really little, you shielded me from the rain one day with your umbrella and told me you liked the pink bow in my hair because it matched my pants and…I guess it kinda stuck with me."

"I _did_? How old were we?"

Helga shrugged. "About three."

"And you _remember_ that?"

"Well…yeah." she replied. "That's how much of an effect you had on me, Arnold."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I know," Helga chuckled sarcastically. "It's tragic."

"Not…really." Arnold replied.

"Wait, so – you're _not_ weirded out by this at all?"

Arnold chuckled, which to Helga sounded like the music of the cherubs. "There are plenty more weird things than having a girl tell you she likes you, Helga."

"But – it's _me_ we're talking about here, Arnold! Helga G. _Pataki_! Your lifetime tormentor! The girl who pretended that you blinded me, the one that called you football-head, or hair-boy, and always put you down and rebuffed your attempts at being friendly or kind; I was a _monster_!"

Helga was starting to cry now, and Arnold could see how distressed she was over the whole ordeal. It was an absolute revelation to him; how could he have not seen it? Seeing her now, breaking down over something that had obviously become unbearable to deal with for such a long time, Arnold pitied her, and berated himself for not having picked up on it sooner. His heart went out to her, understanding how she must feel, since his own feelings toward Lila had gone rejected for years.

Arnold simply had no words for the situation; all he knew was that he had to console her in some way. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, in an effort to comfort her in this time when she needed someone the most, and because it was bloody freezing.

"I'm sorry, Arnold," Helga hiccupped against his chest, wiping the tears off her face. "I need to get a grip."

Arnold gently pulled her back to look at her. "Let's go back to my place and talk about this somewhere a bit warmer," he offered. "It's so damned cold out here I can't think straight."

"_You_ can't think straight?" Helga rolled her eyes and they began walking.

o0o

Their walk back to the boarding house was relatively subdued, but Helga was feeling a strange mix of panic and calm. No words were really needed. The burning stab of embarrassment she had felt earlier had been quenched by Arnold's gentle, understanding nature, and he had timed the embrace perfectly. She just fervently hoped she hadn't gotten snot on his coat.

Arnold handed Helga a cup of hot cocoa, her second for the night. They both sat at the kitchen table, the same one that Helga was all-too-familiar with. She smiled, reminiscing about the times when she had broken into Arnold's house in times of desperation, like when she had been on laughing gas from being at the dentist and had left a ludicrous message on Arnold's phone, declaring her undying love for him. She had stopped at nothing to retrieve that tape, and had always wondered if Arnold had known why she was inside the back of his couch that day when she'd been catapulted out into his room.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" she asked.

"Why would I think that?"

"Because I treated you so badly, when really, I should have just told you I liked you." Helga said. "It would have been the logical thing to do."

Arnold laughed. "Well, maybe a little, when you put it like that."

"You're not grossed out?"

"Really, Helga, we're not in school anymore." Arnold went sarcastic. "I do have a question for you though, if that's okay."

"Shoot."

"You said you were in _love_ with me since we were kids…" he fumbled with his mug a little. "How do you feel _now_?"

Helga physically had to stop her hand from trembling as she lifted her cocoa mug to her lips. "None of your damned beeswax!" she retorted.

Arnold recoiled. "Sorry," he winced.

Helga sighed. "No, _I'm_ sorry, Arnold. I need to stop being so _defensive_…I just haven't really talked about this with anyone before, least of all _you_."

"It's okay, if you'd rather not talk about it, we can talk about something else."

"Too late now, bucko, my cards are on the table." Helga dismissed. "Just answer me one thing."

"Sure?"

"Do you still want to come to Mexico, now that you know this?"

"Of course I do, Helga." Arnold replied without hesitation. "The fact that you've told me you like or _did_ like me, at one stage, doesn't change the way _I_ feel about _you_."

Helga sighed in relief. "Good. So, then, can we forget this conversation ever happened?"

"Well, I'm willing to start afresh, if you are?"

Helga wondered how this boy could be so forgiving, but then again, he had always been that way. He had always had the purest heart and never had any ill intentions. Was he really an angel?

In a small, vulnerable voice, Helga said, "I think…that's the only thing that I really wanted, Arnold. A second chance, to…be your friend, and…show you who I really am."

"Fine, then, consider this your second chance." Arnold smiled so genuinely at her that Helga thought her heart might break.

Even if she never got anything more, this would be enough.


	6. Chapter 6

Phantom: Hi guys…sorry it's been so long, I won't bore you with the details. I just wanted to let you know I haven't forgotten about this story! I may have gotten my mojo back. Anyway…enjoy chapter 6!

o0o

Arnold and Helga arrived in Cancun after an uneventful routine six-hour flight from Hillwood International Airport. After some debate over who would be running The Beeper King while Bob was laid up at home in a back brace, it was decided that Jeremy, Olga's husband, would stay in Hillwood to manage the shop in Bob's absence. Olga wasn't particularly happy about this arrangement and, in typical Olga-style, had thrown a temper tantrum on the morning they were due to depart. Jeremy had argued that they needed the money more than he needed a holiday to Mexico, and _someone_ had to run the shop while Bob was off, so it was a win-win situation. Helga figured it was just a cop-out to give Jeremy a break from the baby – _and_ his daughter, Penelope.

Helga was unusually grateful that her grandfather, Gusztav, was there with them so as not to make Arnold feel ill-at-ease about being the only male within the group, which was made up of herself, Olga, Penelope, Miriam and Ilka, her grandmother. She vaguely wondered how the sleeping arrangements were going to go down once they got to the hotel. Presumably Miriam had booked three double rooms or a couple of apartment suites, but anything could happen when it came to Miriam and the internet. She just didn't want Arnold to feel any more awkward than he probably already was, especially since her confession a few days ago. She was actually rather surprised when he had still, in fact, shown up on her doorstep at the crack of dawn this morning with luggage in tow.

"Helga, this place is beautiful," Arnold commented as they stepped out of the minivan, arriving at the _Fiesta Americana Hotel_.

"I know, right. A sight better than Hillwood, that's for sure." Helga replied, stepping out after him. "And a damned lot warmer."

The balmy tropical breeze stirred through her hair and the palm fronds lining the driveway at the entrance to the complex. The hotel itself was more like a series of apartment complexes which looked out over the beachfront, bedecked in earthy tones of russet and gold, giving it an almost Mediterranean feel. Palm trees sprouted up from every available spare patch of ground and the landscaped lawns were such an unnaturally vivid shade of green that Helga had to look closer. In fact, the whole place seemed to have been brought to life with colour, from the aquamarine waters of the ocean to the bright pink frangipani flowers in the garden, everything seemed to look psychedelic. Maybe Helga was just too used to the dim grey tones of Hillwood in winter.

On their way in they passed the main restaurant area which was on a terrace overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, and to their right was a large swimming pool. Helga fervently hoped that they had an apartment that looked out over the ocean rather than the pool. In whichever case, though, she was glad to be here – family or not – away from Hillwood, college, work, and the pressure of exams and internships coming up. At least she had ten solid days of relaxation ahead of her and could forget about those things until further notice.

"We're the Pataki's, we had – err – wait, just let me get my glasses on…" Miriam fumbled for the itinerary somewhere in her purse as they came into the lobby. "Oh, ah! Here we go. We have three apartment suites booked, but we have a change in circumstances, you see, my husband could no longer make it –"

"_Or_ mine!" Olga griped.

"Oh brother, here we go…" Helga rolled her eyes.

"And – uh – but we have a new addition with us and wondered if we could book an extra room for him?"

"I am sorry ma'am, but we are fully booked." The clerk at the counter replied. "If you had let us know earlier, maybe we could have altered your arrangements…"

Miriam seemed at a loss at this. "Oh, uh, Helga? Honey, what do you want to do, then?"

"It's fine, Mrs. Pataki," Arnold interjected. "I can sleep on the couch…if there is one."

"Criminy, Miriam, can't we just sort it out once we're in there? Let's just check in already!" Helga exclaimed, being both embarrassed and exasperated by her mother's incompetence. This was a situation much more suited to be dealt with by either Bob or herself.

"Alright, alright," Miriam waved a hand at her daughter. "Well, we'll just take what we have booked then, thank you."

The clerk handed over three sets of keys and muttered some general directions to the complex they were to be staying in. To Helga's delight they were located on the oceanfront side with the most stunning views of the Caribbean she had ever seen. A sense of calm overcame her as she and Arnold entered their apartment. Miriam had chosen to bunk with Olga and the baby, and Gusztav and Ilka had their own suite to themselves, too. They agreed to meet for dinner at the restaurant down below in an hour.

"This is too much," Arnold said, putting his bag down by the bed and walking toward the balcony.

Helga put her bag down too and noticed he passed no comment on the fact that there was indeed no couch for him to sleep on. She shuddered delightedly inside in knowing they would have to share the same bed later on. She followed him out onto the balcony, pushing aside the gossamer curtains, and caught her breath at the view. The sun was just starting to set over the ocean, turning the sky a breathtaking vermilion. Gulls flew low over the surface of the water, mere silhouettes in the distance.

Being in a tropical paradise with Arnold was something Helga had only dreamed about as a girl, and now it was like her heaven had become a reality. And he certainly looked heavenly standing there leaning against the railing, the breeze blowing his golden waves back and his shirt to and fro around his chest, giving Helga tantalising glimpses of the toned muscles and soft golden curls beneath. His green eyes had turned almost gold in the sunlight and his shoulder-length wavy locks shone like a golden halo. Helga realised she would probably be seeing him in his swimming togs before long and the thought made her go weak at the knees.

"Sure is a sight, huh?"

Helga shook her head a little. "Huh? What? Oh," she realised he was talking about the sunset and, obviously, not himself.

"I've never seen a sunset this beautiful. I'm going to take a picture of it." Arnold continued, going back inside to retrieve his camera. He took a few snaps at various angles. "Let's take a photo of us both before the sun goes down completely."

Helga was startled when he pulled her in close at the waist and held the camera out in front of them both. Awkwardly she froze and looked at the camera like a deer in the headlights whilst Arnold was grinning next to her. He snapped a photo and they had a look.

"Criminy, that's an _awful_ photo of me!" Helga shrieked. Arnold laughed uproariously. "Take another one." she insisted, scooting in close to him again. She made more of an effort to look sane and smile this time.

"That's better," Arnold smiled after taking another shot. "You should smile more often, Helga."

"Hmph, that's what they _all_ say." She muttered, and decided to go back inside to freshen up. "I'm going to catch a shower, foot-ball head, then I say we go and get some chow."

"I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" Arnold teased.

Helga realised she had slipped up and bit her tongue. "Damn it…I mean _Arnold_."

"I think there should be a punishment every time you call me that."

"Oh yeah? Let's hear it then,"

"You have to have a shot," Arnold grinned.

Helga narrowed her eyes. "Of what?"

"The alcohol of your choice," Arnold said. "But I _did_ buy this at the tax-free shop at the airport…" he pulled out a bottle of Malibu from his suitcase. "So, how about a little pre-dinner drink, Ms. Pataki?"

Helga could feel her cheeks flaming by this point. "Alright, you're on!" not one to back down from a challenge, she marched over to the kitchenette, pulled out the smallest glass she could find, and filled it quarter-way up with the strong coconut liqueur.

"Bottoms up!" She took it back in one hit and wiped her mouth.

"Geeze…You've had some practice at this, haven't you?" Arnold looked astounded.

"Four years in college will do that to you, bucko." She replied. "Now, if you'll _excuse_ me, I have a shower to take."

o0o

It was 6pm by the time the Pataki family had all congregated back downstairs at the restaurant. Helga had taken matters into her own hands to ensure they got a good table and had promptly scored a one in an attractive spot next to the waterfront, seconds before a young Asian family was about to take it. Once sat down, everybody was happily chatting away sipping drinks out of pineapples or coconuts and enjoying the spectacular view over the Caribbean.

"Shrimp, shrimp, shrimp! Man, don't they have anything other than _shrimp_ at this place?" Helga muttered, thumbing through the menu.

"Shrimp is one of my favourites, Helga. Don't you like it?" Arnold asked.

"I'm _allergic_ to shrimp, foot- err – Arnold."

"That's another half-shot for you when we get back."

She glared at him. "You know, this whole _me-taking-a-shot-if-I-call-you-football-head_ thing isn't exactly fair."

"Well, it's the only way you'll learn." He replied matter-of-factly. "Old habits die hard, you know."

"Well, I have a proposal for _you_, then." Helga said, an idea coming to her.

"What's that?"

"Every time you try to do the 'right thing'…_you_ have to take a shot."

"What do you mean the 'right thing'?" Arnold frowned at her.

"Oh come on, Arnold. You know what I'm talking about. Ever since we were young, you've always been that 'voice of reason'."

He hesitated. "Well…not _always_. I guess you're right, though."

"Haven't you ever just thrown caution to the wind before?"

He shrugged. "I guess I've always rather just played it safe than walked on the wild side, Helga. It's kept me out of trouble." He grinned.

"Perhaps we need to change that, then." Helga said. "While we're in Cancun, leave your inhibitions at the door, got it?"

"Unless it involves the police…then okay."

"See, you're doing it already!" Helga shrieked.

"Fine, fine," Arnold put his hands up in defence. "Even if it _does_ involve the police."

"Are you two ready to order?" Miriam asked over the table as a waiter sidled up, pen and pad in hand.

"I'll have the jerk chicken thanks, Mom," Helga said.

"And I'll have the jumbo coconut shrimp, please." Arnold replied.

"Helga, you always get the jerk chicken when we go out for dinner, why not try something different this time?" Olga suggested.

"Got any suggestions then, Nigella?" Helga replied dryly.

"Well, what Arnold ordered sounded pretty nice, or maybe the pineapple shrimp?"

"I'm _allergic_ to shrimp, doi! Don't you people listen to a word I say?"

"Oh honey, you're not _allergic_ to shrimp, silly," Miriam laughed. "You just had food poisoning one time which put you off, that's all…"

"Fine, whatever, but I didn't realise this was a _shrimp_ party. I'm having jerk chicken and that's final! And another mango mojito, thanks," she said, slapping her menu shut and handing it back to the waiter, who was starting to look antsy.

"So, what's everyone planning on doing while we're here?" Arnold picked up conversation once more after they had all placed their orders.

"Well, Mom and I are going to go and check out Chichen Itza tomorrow; we missed it last time we came," Olga said. "And shopping of course,"

"Chichen Itza? What's that?"

"Just some dumb temple," Helga muttered. "Ancient Mayan civilization or something."

"Wow! That sounds really interesting; Helga, we should go."

Helga slapped her hand to her forehead. "Doi, I knew you'd want to go…"

"It will be educational, Helga," Olga clucked.

"I don't _need_ any more _educating_, Olga," Helga remarked. "I'm on vacation for crying out loud!"

"Well, what do _you_ want to do while we're here, then?" Arnold asked.

"Jetskiing, swimming, snorkelling, sunbathing, drinking…you know, the usual."

"Well we've got another 9 days to do all of that in. Come on Helga, it's one day. What do you say?"

Helga let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine! But if any of those damned hawkers try to sell me any tacky souvenirs while we're there, I'll deck them!"

o0o

Dinner came and went without so much as a hitch, and Arnold had even persuaded Helga to try some of his coconut shrimp. As it turned out, Helga didn't in fact go into anaphylactic shock, but thought it rather tasty. She and shrimp were friends once again. After rounding off the meal with a slice of key lime pie and a few too many more mojitos, Helga found herself feeling satiated and rather woozy by the time they returned to their apartment. Bidding the rest of the family goodnight, Arnold and Helga turned in.

"So, um…" Arnold stood awkwardly by the bed, scratching the back of his neck.

"What?" Helga stared at him. "Oh, right."

"How do you wanna do this?"

Helga shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't care, just don't wake me up. And you better not snore."

She really _was_ too tired to care right now, anyway. It was almost 10pm, she'd been awake since before dawn, been on a six-hour plane ride and just had an enormous dinner with several alcoholic beverages; she was likely to sleep like the dead until at least the morning.

"Okay…I'll sleep on this side." Arnold said tentatively, sitting down on the side nearest the door.

"Alrighty then."

Helga suddenly felt uncomfortable. How was she meant to undress with him right there? She wavered for a moment, then turned around to steal a quick glance at him. She noticed he was simply taking off his shirt and undoing his shorts without any kind of song or dance. She shrugged and did the same, then they both slipped under the sheets. The cool cotton and night breeze sifting in through the window felt refreshing on her too-warm skin, and the sound of the waves lapping gently on the shore beyond was starting to make her drift off.

She cracked her eyes open one last time to glance at Arnold, who was lying down on his side facing her with his eyes closed. A shard of white moonlight fell over his face through the crack in the curtain. Helga smiled dreamily to herself, wondering how in the hell such a chain of events had led to this – her, lying in bed next to the only boy she had ever loved, on holiday on the idyllic shores of Cancun.

"Goodnight, Arnold," she sighed, and swiftly fell asleep.

o0o


	7. Chapter 7

Phantom: Helloooooooo readers! Contrary to popular belief, I am, in fact, still alive! And so is my story! :D thanks to all your reviews, it really does spur me on. So here we are with chapter 7…and all I will say is, expect the unexpected! :D

Chapter 7

o0o

Helga awoke the next morning feeling clammy and slightly seedy. As she came-to, she realised with a start that she was not alone in bed. It suddenly came flooding back to her where she was and just _who_ she was in bed with. She flushed hotly as she realised Arnold was still deeply asleep, moulded in behind her with his arm draped over her. His regular and slightly deeper rhythmic breathing at the nape of her neck told her he was still asleep. Helga was suddenly alarmed and quite embarrassed at what _else_ she felt against her body, further down.

Trying with every fibre of her being not to simply shoot out of bed and proceed to go into cardiac arrest, Helga delicately removed Arnold's arm from on top of her and slid out of covers as quietly as she could. He mumbled something intelligible in his sleep and rolled over. Helga sighed with relief and tiptoed to the balcony, but not before gazing at the boy dreamily. Oh, how she wanted to slip back in there with him and put her head on his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

_But_, Helga firmly reminded herself, _your breath probably smells like a mule crapped in it, your hair looks like a bird's nest, not to mention you __**feel**__ like a street worker who's just got in at 5am after a hard night. Not exactly the picture of romance right there, so snap out of it! _

Short of slapping herself, Helga stepped outside onto the balcony. She inhaled a breath of fresh sea air and exhaled again, feeling a mild throbbing behind her eyes. She yawned and stretched, and then sat down in one of the wooden deck chairs and watched the sun rise, trying to ignore the throbbing in her temples and the churning in her stomach.

_Yep, too many mojitos for you last night, Helga old girl. Oh well, you'll be good as new for another round tonight…at least you better be, it's New Year's Eve! _

Seeing it was still early, as the sun had only just cracked over the horizon, Helga went and had a shower and made herself a cup of coffee, sitting outside on the balcony for a while longer until Arnold woke up. As he did, he came and joined her on the balcony with a cup of coffee in hand. Helga just about dropped her own coffee in realising he was wearing nothing short of a pair of boxer shorts – and that was it.

"Good morning," he said, a little sheepishly, Helga thought.

"Morning, Sunshine," Helga replied, smirking, and, at the same time, drinking in the splendour that was Arnold half naked. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like the dead." Arnold said as he sat down. "And you?"

"'bout the same," Helga replied. She declined to mention he was just about smothering her when she woke up this morning…and that she rather liked it.

"How's your head?" Arnold grinned.

"Not so great right now," Helga admitted. "But I'll be fine after breakfast. Speaking of which, we're meeting Mom and Olga down in the restaurant at 9, so hop to it, bucko, or we'll be late for your little Mayan civilization adventure that you're _so_ looking forward to."

Arnold deadpanned. "Can't you at least _pretend_ to be excited?"

"Sure I can, I'm just not much of a history person. Unless it's to do with Shakespeare." She added as an afterthought.

"Well, you don't _have_ to come, you know…"

Helga gave this some thought. Then, deciding that she couldn't possibly allow Arnold to be in the torturous company of her sister and mother for the better part of their first day on holiday, she decided it was best that she came.

"No, no. It's fine…I'll go. I _want_ to go."

"It doesn't sound like it, much."

"What do you want me to do then, hair-boy?!" she was starting to become frustrated at this point.

Arnold grinned. "Take a shot?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "It is _way_ too early for that."

"We had a deal though…"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Alright, line it up then!"

o0o

Feeling less than ideal, Helga sat through a breakfast which consisted of tropical fruit, yoghurt and toast, for it was all she could stomach after having tequila on an empty stomach first thing in the morning. The others hungrily devoured the more usual American-style breakfast buffet which was on offer, including pancakes, potato hash, and waffles, with lots of coffee.

Before she knew it, Helga was being crammed into a minivan and they were on the road, along with several other tourists, to Chichen Itza. Arnold was looking and feeling rather sprightly, Helga assumed, excited as he was about going to see the great monument. Miriam was also nose-deep in a guidebook on the ancient city, while Olga tried in vain to keep Penelope still on her lap. Helga pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes, leant against the side of the window and closed her eyes, hoping to God that this would be over soon so she could get back to the hotel and go for a dip in the pool. Thoughts on how to get back at Arnold were ruminating in her mind, but she could think of nothing that might deter him. Still, the day was young, and it _was_ New Year's Eve.

Helga didn't want this holiday to simply be an alcohol-induced binge, though. Sure, it was nice to have some drinks and get merry – particularly tonight – but it was also about relaxation and forgetting her life in Hillwood for a while. The significance that she would be graduating and would soon need to start applying for internships was a fact that she couldn't easily ignore, but for now, at least, she could. And what was more, she was here with _Arnold_, which was more than she could have dreamed would happen in a thousand years, so she wanted to make the most of it.

She hoped dearly that something of the intimate variety might happen while they were here, but she had no idea how to go about it. Helga had never actively pursued anyone in her entire life. If anything, she had actively _rejected_ potential suitors on numerous occasions. Her crush on Arnold had always remained a secret and she would rather have died than let him find out. But now that he knew…who knew what was to happen? Had his feelings changed at all? He said they hadn't. But that could change. Helga was fairly sure he was single and times had certainly changed since their school days. Who knew what could happen? She could only hope.

o0o

"Come on, Helga! We're nearly at the top!"

Helga was sure she was about to die as she followed Arnold up the zillion stone steps of the pyramid at Chichen Itza. Not only was she out of breath from the steep climb, but it was so unbearably hot and she had drank so much water already she didn't think she could possibly sweat any more out. She had even succumbed to one of the hawkers near the entrance to the complex and had bought a handheld, battery-operated fan to cool herself down with. In hindsight she wondered what would have been worse out of staying down on terra firma with Miriam and Olga or trying to keep up with Arnold as he power-climbed up the side of a pyramid.

"Are you _trying_ to kill me, football head?!" she shrieked, stopping and putting her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

Arnold turned around and came back down the few steps to her level. "I'll let you away with that one, Helga," he teased. "but only if you come to the top with me – come on, take my hand,"

Helga, having now caught her breath, looked up to see his hand extended to her. Before she even had a moment to think, she took it with her own grimy, sweaty one. Arnold smiled at her, which in turn made her smile back and she felt every nerve ending in her body zap her with a pleasant, tingling sensation. Aside from the brief embrace on Christmas Night outside on her stoop, this was about as close to intimate contact as Helga had ever had with the boy. With new-found energy, Helga and Arnold ascended the rest of the pyramid steps hand-in-hand and finally made it to the top.

The view from the top was breathtaking. Across the miles of jungle and parkland, and over the tops of many other buildings, temples and shrines of the ancient city, she could almost see back out to the ocean from whence they had came. It was quite unlike anything she had ever experienced.

"A-Arnold!" she stammered. "It's so beautiful up here."

"See, I told you it would be worth, didn't I?"

Helga had been too busy ogling the view to realise that she hadn't let go of Arnold's hand, yet. He had also made no move to do so and led her toward an area that was comfortable to sit and enjoy the view. It was only then that they disentangled their hands. They simply sat in silence for a while, taking in the spectacular vista. Once she had gotten over the awe of the place, Helga spotted Olga and Miriam below and waved to them.

"Do you think this might be like the kind of place your parents lived, Arnold?" she asked after a while. "I mean with like, jungles and temples and shit."

"I imagine so," Arnold replied. "I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"When do you plan on going to San Lorenzo?"

"Sometime next year, I think. I want to travel as you know, Helga and…well, I think the time has come. I've decided to sell the boarding house, quit my job and go travelling for a year."

This came as a bit of a shock to Helga, although it really shouldn't have. "What's made you decide this then?"

Arnold shrugged. "I've been thinking things over, the past couple of days. Well, since I ran into you, actually," he confessed. "You've always been so bold, Helga; so courageous. You were always the kind of person that did what you wanted, nevermind what anyone else thought. And me…well, I've never really been like that. I've always thought about the needs of other people before myself. But maybe it's time to do something for me, for a change."

"You're right, Arnold." Helga admitted. "But you're wrong about never doing what you wanted; you were never one to follow the crowd. You always did the 'right thing' – what you felt was right in your heart – even if it wasn't what everyone else was doing at the time."

"It kept me out of trouble. _Most_ of the time, anyway." Arnold replied. "Remember that Halloween when we actually managed to convince everyone that there was an alien invasion?"

Helga laughed out loud at the memory. "Yeah, that was a prank that people took a little _too_ seriously. Doi! My own _father_ just about _murdered_ me!"

Arnold laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah…sorry about that, Helga. I'm glad he didn't."

Helga smiled. "Let's get back down; I'm going to turn into a crispy tortilla if we stay up here any longer."

"'Baked not fried' right?" Arnold teased, quoting a popular slogan.

Helga punched him in the arm at his corny joke and started making the descent back to earth.

o0o

After spending a couple more hours exploring the many caves, tunnels, temples and other outbuildings of Chichen Itza, it was time to return to the minivan to take them all back to Cancun. Helga was glad that she had came; she'd been able to spend some quality time with Arnold – and her family, but they weren't important – and had seen some truly awe-inspiring sites at the same time. Still, she was desperately looking forward to a cool dip in the pool before dinner and then hitting the town later on. At least, that's what she had in mind – she hadn't actually consulted Arnold about what he might like to do later on in the night.

"I hear there might be some beach parties on, with fireworks and stuff," he replied, once Helga had enquired. "What do you think?"

"That could be one potential option –"

"_Hey, Arnold!" _

Helga was abruptly cut short when someone called out to them. They both turned to see someone running up behind them, with someone else in tow who, in the distance, looked remarkably like Arnold. As they came nearer, Helga felt her stomach twist into knots as she recognised who it was. She bit her lip so hard that she felt the coppery taste of blood on her tongue.

"Hey, Lila…!" Arnold sounded delighted to see her, which made Helga want to vomit. "And Arnie! Imagine seeing you guys here?!"

"What a coincidence! I've already ran into Brainy and Nadine here today, too!"

Helga appraised her arch nemesis with icy scrutiny. All long legs the colour of milk and cascading auburn hair that fell about her shoulders, the same cute freckles and voice sweeter than corn syrup. Clad in tiny green short-shorts and a cropped plaid shirt tied under the bust, showing her trim and toned stomach and a hint of cleavage, Lila Sawyer had certainly become more comely over the years. It was little wonder that Arnold had been so infatuated with her. Helga felt her eye twitch involuntarily.

Arnie, on the other hand – Arnold's _weird_ cousin who Lila had been obsessed with but had, somehow, declared his undying love for _Helga_, when they were in elementary school – had somehow grown even _uglier_ since she last saw him, if that was even possible. He had come to stay with Arnold once again when they were all about fifteen, when Lila and Arnold had been an item. Helga had just about had to beat him off with a stick that summer, as she recalled. Now, seeing them here together, just seemed weird, like the tables had turned and this time it was Helga who was with Arnold, and Lila who was back with Arnie. She felt like she was in some warped and twisted dream.

"Why hello there, Helga! I'm sure it's been ever-so-long since I last saw you!"

Helga was taken aback as the redhead lunged forward and embraced her. "Err, yeah – it's sure been a while, hasn't it, Lila," she replied awkwardly. She thought she heard Arnold snicker and glared at him.

"You simply _must_ come down to Playa Tortugas tonight; there's going to be a massive beach party! It will be ever-so-fun! Right, Arnie?"

The man in question snorted, causing Helga to shudder. "Right."

"We were just talking about what we were going to do tonight, weren't we Helga?" Arnold nudged her. "What do you say?"

_Put me on the spot why don't you, football head,_ Helga thought menacingly. Now she had no choice but to accept Lila's invitation. The last thing she wanted to be doing was spending New Year's Even in Cancun with Arnold and his ex girlfriend and weirdo cousin who might try to pull _who-knows-what_ on her tonight when they were all under the influence. On the up side, though, it made things a whole lot more interesting and potentially less awkward knowing some other people here, Lila or no, than it just being Helga and Arnold getting drunk together, which could go one or two ways – horrifically wrong or sensually right. She prayed for the latter.

"It sounds like a simply _swell_ idea," Helga replied, changing her tune. "Playa Tortugas, here we come!"

o0o

Phantom: -snicker- You didn't think I'd let you get away without some kind of a twist, did you? Nothing is ever that easy for Helga! Find out what happens in chapter 8! Bye for now! :}


End file.
